THE 

LOSS OF THE AUSTRALIA: 

A NARRATIVE OF 

THE LOSS OF THE BRIG AUSTRALIA, BY FIRE, 

ON HER VOYAGE FROM LEITH TO SYDNEY. 

WITH AN ACCOUNT OF 

THE SUFFERINGS, RELIGIOUS EXERCISES, AND FINAL 
RESCUE OF THE CREW AND PASSENGERS. 



EDITED BY THE 

REV. JAMES R. M'GAVIN, 



NEW YORK: 

ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 

285 BROADWAY. 

1853. 



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NOV 2 2 196; 




I 



CONTENTS 



Page 
PREFACE, - - - - - - ' - -5 

LIST OP THE CREW AND PASSENGERS, - 7 

CHAPTER I. 

THE VOYAGE AND CATASTROPHE, - - - - 9 

CHAPTER II. 

THE SUFFERINGS IN THE BOATS, - - - - 28 

CHAPTER III. 

THE FORLORN LANDING, 47 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE MELANCHOLY MARCH THROUGH THE WILDER- 
NESS, 60 

CHAPTER V. 

• THE RESCUK, ------ 78 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/lossofaustralianOOmgav 



PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. 

The short and simple narrative which is introduced to 
public notice in the following pages, is a plain statement 
of facts ; and is submitted with unaffected diffidence, as 
an humble memorial of "the loving kindness of the 
Lord, and his great goodness, 7 ' in a season of extremity. 
The only preface which can be necessary in a publication 
so inconsiderable, is to certify its authenticity, by avow- 
ing the name and affixing the responsibility of the 
author. 

The following simple history of the narrative will, it 
is presumed, be sufficient to remove all scruples as to its 
truthfulness and reality. In the summer of 1844, Cap- 
tain Adam Yule, of Dundee, committed into my hands a 
large manuscript, containing the substance of the follow- 
ing pages, with a request that I would use my utmost 
freedom with the materials, and give them to the world 
in any form that was most agreeable to myself. I learn- 
ed that he had drawn up his account at the Cape of Good 
Hope, immediately after the occurrences detailed had 
happened, and that he had consigned it on his return to 
this country, into the hands of a venerable friend, who 
had retained it for two years, without finding the leisure 
necessary to correct and prepare it for publication. In 
the execution of the trust reposed in me, I considered it 
proper to reconstruct the narrative out of the materials 
1* 



VI PREFACE. 

with which I was furnished ; retaining, at the same time, 
every important incident in its place, and in no case sup- 
pressing the utterance of the devout experience of the 
writer. For the fidelity with which I have adhered to 
the original facts, I hold myself responsible alike to Cap- 
tain Yule and to the Christian public ; and I am happy 
to acknowledge that I have received, both from himself 
and from several of his fellow-survivors in that disastrous 
voyage, the most pleasing assurances of the truthfulness 
of the statements. It is necessary that, in such circum- 
stances, I should exonerate Captain Yule from all res- 
ponsibility as to the manner in which these facts are now 
submitted to the public, — as I must be content, undivi- 
dedly, to bear whatever censure criticism may conde- 
scend to offer on the literature of this publication. 

The Editor dismisses his humble labours with satisfac- 
tion, that he has been permitted to aid in rearing this 
simple tribute on behalf of a class of men who must 
always hold a warm place in his interest and affections ; 
and whose perilous sacrifices of personal comfort and of 
religious opportunities, in their calling, entitle them to 
the cordial sympathy of all Christians. He accompanies 
the brief narrative with his prayers, that it may be the 
instrument of spiritual benefit to many souls, and may 
fulfil the only design in its publication, in promoting 
piety among sailors, and confirming the promise of God, 
" that He' is nigh unto all them that call upon him, to all 
that call upon him in truth." 

JAMES R. M'GAVIN. 
Dundee, December. 1845. 



9 LTST OF THE CREW AND PASSENGERS. 

Adam Yule, master ; Alexander Wallace, mate ; John 
Yule, second mate: William Yule, carpenter; George 
Young, stewai'd ; Thomas Bisset, cook ; George David- 
son, Thomas Souter, William Hay, John Allan, seamen ; 
Benjamin Aitken, Alexander Matthew, and James Hill, 
apprentices. 

CABIN PASSENGERS. 

Mr. Thomas Hams, London. 

Mr. , surgeon. 

Miss Margaret Brown, Fife. 
Miss Ann Sim, Edinburgh. 
Miss Ann Kniffht, Turrif. 



STEERAGE PASSENGERS. 

John Henderson, miller. 

Robert Elphinston. 

James Elphinston. 

•lames M'Lauchlan, farmer. 

George Peat. 

John Chisholm, 

George Chisholm, 

Jean Chisholm, )■ An orphan family. 

Agnes Chisholm, 

Margery Chisholm, 



LOSS OF THE AUSTRALIA. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE VOYAGE AND CATASTROPHE. 

" They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business 
in great waters, these men see the works of the Lord, 
and his wonders in the deep." 

The life of a sailor, beyond the lot of most 
other men, discloses to a reflecting mind an 
impressive series of divine mercies and judg- 
ments. In a calling so singularly chequered 
by varying scenes and changing incidents, 
life is spent amidst remarkable adventures 
and romantic deliverances, so as to invest its 
course with an unusual interest, and to crowd 
its experience with the most solemn and 
memorable instructions of Heaven. 

The individual by whom the materials of 
the following narrative were contributed, is 



10 THE VOYAGE 

himself a sailor ; and has borne a prominent 
part in the painful scenes which are here 
depicted. His life has been prolonged by 
divine mercy through almost every scene of 
sea-faring experience, and it has been pre- 
served by scarcely less ihan miracle, amidst 
perils to which not many sailors have been 
exposed. The following story, in all its facts 
and experience, is properly his own ; and, 
therefore, throughout he is preserved as the 
speaker. Only in the matter of construction 
and expression, another party must be held 
responsible, into whose hands the full mate- 
rials were committed to give them form. It 
was the devout desire of the original party 
not to forget Jehovah's benefits ; having, 
like the Psalmist (Psalm lxvi. 12,) "gone 
through fire and through water," he felt 
solicitous to say with the same holy minstrel, 
(verse 16,) " Come and hear, all ye that fear 
God, and I will tell you what he hath done 
for my soul." 

In the autumn of 1840, I accepted the 
command of the Australia, of Dundee, bound 



AND CATASTROPHE. 11 

for Sydney, New South Wales. On the 2d 
October, our vessel set sail from Leith, having 
on board a general cargo of merchandize. 
Our ship's company consisted of twenty-eight 
persons, being thirteen of a crew, and fifteen 
passengers. My heart was buoyant with 
hope arid pleasing anticipations as I bade my 
family farewell, and weighed anchor for my 
destination. Everything gave promise of a 
propitious voyage. Our vessel was new and 
well found in every necessary, the crew were 
able, and well selected, and the passengers 
were agreeable, all being full of hope and 
fearless of evil. Indeed, if we could have an- 
ticipated results, my company were most 
unlikely and ill selected for enduring the 
hardships that awaited us ; three of the crew 
being but apprentice lads, and of the passen- 
gers, five being females, besides two boys and 
a girl of very tender years. But who has not 
seen, that while the helpless are sometimes 
the first to be visited by the storm, they fre- 
quently are found, also, to survive its fury; 
when the strong, who were the most likely to 



12 THE VOYAGE 

brave its blast, are borne down and destroyed 
before it? "I returned and saw under the 
sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the 
battle to the strong — for man also knoweth 
not his time : as the fishes that are taken in 
an evil net, so are the sons of men snared, 
when it falleth suddenly upon them." 

The commencement of our voyage was 
sufficiently prosperous. We rounded Cape 
Wrath by an easy progress, and were in the 
latitude of Madeira in seven days from Cape 
Clear. Nothing remarkable occurred till after 
our departure from Rio de Janeiro, where we 
touched for a few days in the beginning of 
December. We were then baffled with 
boisterous weather and contrary winds, till 
the 27th of that month, when the wind became 
fair, and the weather improved. On the 
evening of the 29th, December, we had all 
sails set, with a strong fair wind, and a heavy 
sea. At this time, by recent observations, I 
found that we must have been in latitude 
35° 51' south, and longitude 8° 8' east of 
Greenwich, or, in round numbers, about 600 



AND CATASTROPHE. 13 

miles from the nearest land, which was the 
Cape of Good Hope. Our passengers had as 
usual walked the deck after tea, until about 
eight o'clock, when, feeling it cold, they had 
gone below. In less than half an hour, I 
followed them to the after-cabin, having 
given the chief mate his orders for the night. 
We were all in excellent spirits, and speculat- 
ing how soon, and how safely we should 
reach our destination with so good a wind. 
Alas ! how little did we know the horrors 
that awaited us : destruction even then had 
begun its frightful work, and was silently, 
but too surely consuming our solitary and 
sea-girded habitation. Soon after entering 
the cabin, I was affected with a sense of 
something burning ; supposing that the ladies 
might have set something in their bed-rooms 
on fire, I ran forward in the dark to their 
cabins, but found everything safe. The 
sense of burning, however, became more 
strong and decided. I therefore snatched a 
light, and found, to my dismay, that smoke 
was issuing from the fore bulk-head on the 
2 



14 THE VOYAGE 

starboard side of the mainmast. It was but 
the work of an instant to clear away the 
goods with which that untenanted berth had 
been filled, if possible to reach the seat of the 
fire. My brother William, and four or five 
seamen withstood resolutely the suffocating 
smoke that surrounded them in this labour, 
while others stood arranged and ready with 
buckets full of water, to dash upon the first 
appearance of fire. But what was our horror 
to find, on emptying the berth, that the evil 
lay deeper, and was every moment on the in- 
crease ; in short, that the ship's hold was on 
fire ! This was too soon apparent, for, on re- 
moving a plank from the bulk-head, we saw 
the whole interior of the vessel like the womb 
of a volcano, and the entire cargo of coals 
and combustible goods in a blaze. It was 
impossible, from the superincumbent and in- 
tervening goods, to pour in water in sufficient 
qnantity to extinguish so extensive a confla- 
gration ; this I perceived at first glance, and 
therefore at once drove in the board to con- 
fine the flames, feeling, in the agony of des- 



AND CATASTROPHE. 15 

pair, that the ship was irrecoverably to be 
consumed. 

It was an awful moment to every one of 
us. To die on so sudden summoning, and 
to be summoned to such a death, were suffi- 
cient to appal the stoutest heart. What were 
we to do ? — beneath us was a burning bier, 
and all beyond was a black and angry abyss. 
We could not abide where we were, and to 
go forth scarcely promised a better fate, for' 
no little boat could live long in such a sea. 
I saw in the countenances of the haggard 
beings around me, that they were fully alive 
to either fate. Some, frantic with terror, sent 
forth cries, which found no echo from our 
shoreless and surrounding solitude ; others 
clung around me, tormenting me with ques- 
tions which I could not answer; while the 
remainder stood silent and trembling, as if 
the presence of death had smitten them 
dumb. It was easy to discern their emotions 
in their demeanour— but why should I dilate 
on others' feelings, when I can but faintly 
recall my own ? I have a confused recollec- 



16 THE VOYAGE 

tion of a tumultuous throng of momentous 
interests rushing upon me with an over- 
powering rapidity, and of a certain effort of 
self-possession seeking to stem, while it re- 
ceived the tide. Visions of danger — of self- 
protection — of death, mingled with thoughts 
of duty — of home — of a probably widowed 
wife and fatherless family — all flashed wildly 
through my brain. I felt that I stood in im- 
mediate contact with death, and the solemni- 
ties of a judgment to come rose in array 
before me. It is not for me to reveal the 
secrecies of such a situation ; but I can only 
say as one who has been "in deaths oft," and 
with all the solemnities of that hour before 
me, that I know but one confidence that has 
proved unfailing and infallible in such a 
crisis, and that is, a personal interest in the 
Lord Jesus Christ, and an implicit reliance 
on his perfect ivork. 

As I looked around upon the shivering 
group that had enclosed me, I became filled 
with one solemn conviction, — it was my 
official responsibility; and I was fired with 



AND CATASTROPHE. 17 

one desperate effort — the effort of rescue, 
Without a moment's delay, therefore, the 
plan of arrangements was fixed, and the 
orders were given. The mate was instructed 
to ease sail, and heave the ship to, in order 
to draw the fire forward, and clear the after- 
part of the ship from smoke, so as to allow us 
to labour with efficiency. A hole was then 
cut in the deck, above the strongest seat of 
the fire, and an uninterrupted stream of water 
poured down through the opening; but the 
rapid increase of smoke and flame soon con- 
vinced us that all idea of subduing the fire, 
and saving the ship, was impracticable. We 
then covered the deck with the loose sails, to 
smother, as far as possible, the smoke and 
flame ; for by this time the deck-plank was 
blistering beneath our feet, and it was im- 
possible to breathe amidships. Our next 
efforts were directed to launching the long- 
boat, whichj as usual, was secured on deck. 
This proved to be a work of great difficulty, 
and occasioned considerable delay, not un- 
mixed with danger. The boat had been 
2* 



18 THE VOYAGE 

converted into a stall for two live bulls, and 
in attempting to get them over the side, one 
of them, in the confusion, unfortunately got 
out of the slings, and ran frantic along the 
deck. This accident, as may be supposed, 
greatly increased the general consternation, 
and much invaluable time was lost ere the 
ferocious animal could be secured and des- 
patched ; so that when the tackles were 
hooked on to the boat, it was impossible to 
breathe in that part of the ship. The men 
could only take a hasty pull and then rush 
aft to breathe ; and it was only after repeated 
efforts, and great perseverance, that we got 
the bow of the long-boat sufficiently high for 
launching. We then manned the after-tackle, 
but, unfortunately, it unhooked aloft, and it 
required enormous exertions to get it repla- 
ced ; however, by fastening some guys round 
the rigging, and through the blessing of God 
on our efforts, we at length got the boat 
launched, and two good hands into her. To 
pass her aft, and preserve her from swamp- 
ing, were matters of great labour ; for the 



AND CATASTROPHE. 19 

roll of the sea was so heavy, and the smoke 
was so dense over the lee-side, that we could 
not see what we were doing. While these 
things were going on, I had ordered the 
steward to prepare some bread, and small 
stores, to put into the boat ; and I now went 
down to see what progress he had made for 
our supply, leaving the mate on deck to roll 
some water casks aft, and after slinging them 
well, to drop them over the quarter to the 
long-boat. Every moment, by this time, was 
invaluable ; for the flames had now made 
their appearance up the fore-hatch, and very 
soon caught the rigging and sails. 1 can 
never sufficiently commend the energy of the 
mate, and the steadiness and good behaviour 
of the men during these exertions. There 
was no swearing, no inclination to fly to 
spirits ; every man was obedient to orders, 
and anxious to do his* utmost. Even the 
passengers revealed the same excellent spirit ; 
I heard no screams from the females, and 
even the children ceased to cry. All seemed 
to feel that every effort was making for their 



20 THE VOYAGE 

safety, and they silently acquiesced in the 
arrangements. 

Our preparations were soon made. Two 
small bags of bread, two hams, two cheeses, 
two or three canisters of preserved meat, and 
a few bottles of wine, with a sextant, some 
charts, an almanac, my Bible and Psalm- 
Book, and some flannel shirts and blankets, 
<fec, were all that we could secure amid the 
suffocating smoke. These were immediately 
carried on deck, and secured in the skiff, 
which still hung in the stern-davits. The 
mate, in the meantime, had rolled two casks 
of rain-water aft, which was all that he 
could obtain. To secure their safe transmis- 
sion to the long-boat in such a sea, was no 
easy matter. I therefore confided to the mate 
to lift them into the boat, and he left the 
ship for this purpose. The first cask was 
well directed, but in lifting it over the gun- 
wale of the boat, it fell upon the mate and 
another seaman, who were dreadfully bruised ; 
it was a marvel, indeed, that they were not 
killed. In consequence of their being disa- 



AND CATASTROPHE. 21 

bled, the second cask got out of the slings, 
and we lost it. This was a very serious 
matter, but it was irreparable, as the whole 
front part of the ship was now on fire, and 
quite impassable for any purpose. Finding 
that I could make no further provision for 
the people, I put the ladies and three children 
in the skiff, with two seamen, who were or- 
dered to cut the faulds, so soon as she touched 
the water, while we lowered them from the 
davits. This was done in safety, which was 
a special mercy, as the boat was greatly over- 
loaded ; having, besides the stores, and the 
above company, two of the passengers, who, 
unknown to me, had concealed themselves 
under the thafts. There were now left on 
board the ship five or six persons, together 
with myself. These immediately launched 
the small boat, which hung on the main- 
deck, and got safely into it, so that, for a little 
season, I stood the last living thing amid the 
burning mass. My position was alike novel 
and awful ; two horrid deaths were before 
me — one on either hand — and I stood but 



22 THE VOYAGE 

upon a point between them. At that mo- 
ment the flame was playing fearfully over all 
the rigging; the topping-lifts had been burnt 
through, and the trysail-boom came swinging 
clown on the taffrail ; the trysail itself was 
on fire as high up as the third reef, and the 
mainmast every moment was expected to fall 
above me. With a heavy heart I felt that 1 
must quit for ever the ship and property, of 
which I could no longer retain the charge. 
Another and a still more sacred trust was 
beneath me ; and as I looked down upon the 
twenty-seven hapless beings, ghastly amid 
the glare of the burning ship, and tossed 
above the billows that soon might be our mu- 
tual tomb, I felt — oh, how I felt — that the 
charge of such beings was not mine. Calm- 
ly as my momentary solitude would permit, 
I lifted my soul to Him who "rules the rag- 
ing of the sea,'' and cast myself and com- 
pany into his everlasting arms. If ever fer- 
vent prayer was productive of immediate 
peace, my heart felt it at that moment ; for 
the words of God thrilled through me at the 



AND CATASTROPHE. 23 

instant, as if his own finger had inscribed 
them upon my bosom, — " Call upon me in 
the day of trouble, I will deliver thee." I 
was recalled, however, from my reverie by the 
mate imploring- me to come into the boat, and 
as 1 could do no more, I obeyed the summons : 
so, sliding down the tackles, I got safely into 
the boat, among my wretched companions. 
At that instant the mainmast fell with a tre- 
mendous crash over the side, and the flames 
shot up with frightful fury from the cabin- 
skylight, as if to intimate that the work of 
destruction was nearly completed, and that 
our ill-fated vessel was no longer fit to be a 
refuge for living beings. 

•''One woe was past;" and although we 
knew well that others were awaiting us, it 
was still an act of marvellous mercy that so 
many persons had a come out of the midst of 
the fire" with "not a hair of any of our 
heads singed." It is needless to speculate as 
to the cause of our disaster ; but, as it un- 
doubtedly began in the lower hold among the 
coals, it was most probably produced by 



24 THE VOYAGE 

spontaneous combustion. When the last per- 
son left the ship, it must have beep about 
eleven o'clock, so that in less than three hours 
we had been cast forth from security and 
comfort, amidst cold, and nakedness, and 
watching, to face dangers and deaths in their 
most dismal aspect. It was my design to 
have remained by the wreck till dawn, in the 
hope — a hope, alas, that was not to be realiz- 
ed — that some friendly ship might be attract- 
ed by the burning to our rescue. But the 
boats were in danger of being stove, it being 
impossible at all times to prevent their cha- 
fing ; and, ere long, the rope by which we 
were made fast to the wreck became burnt 
through, so that we were compelled to part 
even from the desolate companionship of the 
burning vessel, and were cast adrift at mid- 
night, upon the black and boundless solitude 
of ocean. Still clinging to the hope of rescue, 
I sought to keep the boats as close to the 
wreck as possible, and made the best distri- 
bution of our company that I could. I took 
charge of the long-boat with other sixteen 



AND CATASTROPHE. 25 

souls in it ; seven were in the skiff, and four 
in the small-boat, and there we drifted till 
morning came. 

It would be impossible to describe the gran- 
deur and horrors of that night. Let fancy 
paint, if it may, so many hapless beings 
huddled together unpreparedly, exposed with- 
out shelter to the cold night sky, and ex- 
pecting every moment to be swallowed up. 
Ocean was ever fretting, and curveting, and 
plunging beneath us, as if it had wrathfully 
resolved to cast us from its "crested mane." 
The sky all above and around was one scene 
of -blackness, unbroken by one opening in its 
cloud, and unblest by the radiance of one sol- 
itar}^ star. Behind the boats — in the region 
whither we were drifting, every thing was 
dark as the grave. Light indeed attended us 
throughout that lone midnight, but it was 
ihe glare of destruction, which, as it contend- 
ed with the surrounding darkness, only in- 
creased its horror. The flames long played 
in magnificent grandeur, kindling the dark 
sky above, and reflecting their lurid gleam 
3 



26 THE VOYAGE 

from the ridge of every billow, as if they 
mocked our misery by their majestic triumph. 
And ever and anon came some terrific explo- 
sion — probably of the ship's spirits — which 
struck like a death-knell upon our hearts, 
proclaiming that the work of ruin was well 
nigh accomplished. 

In this condition of extremity, one only 
hope remained to us — one last grand anchor- 
hold to preserve us from despair. We re- 
membered Him " who maketh darkness his 
secret place, his pavilion round about him 
dark waters, and thick clouds of the skies f 
We thought of Him as " the confidence of 
all the ends of the earth, and of them that 
are afar off upon the sea, who stilleth the 
noise of the sea, and the noise of their waves." 
And there, " out of the depths we cried unto 
Him." Mingling with the voice of the wind 
and waters, and rising above their murmurs, 
the sound of our praise and supplications 
ascended on the midnight air, and was heard 

fne the throne. It was a sacred relief to 
iMif heavy hearts to feel that the eye of God 



AND CATASTROPHE.. 55? 

still watched over us in our misery, and that 
his ear was open to our cry : and although 
we knew not the dark path that lay before 
us, yet we sought it with His words on our 
lips, — " The floods have lifted up, O Lord, 
the floods have lifted up their voice; the 
floods lift up their waves. The Lord on 

HIGH IS MIGHTIER THAN THE NOISE OF 
MANY WATERS, YEA THAN THE MIGHTY 



t£S THE SUFFERINGS 



CHAPTER II. 

THE SUFFERINGS IN THE BOATS. 

• : They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to 
the depths; their soul is melted because of trouble." 

u Joy cometh in the morning ;" but it was 
not so with our forlorn company. Daylight 
of the 30th December dawned only to reveal 
our mutual wretchedness, and to aggravate 
our distress. Our hapless vessel vanished in 
the distance as daylight appeared, and our 
hearts fainted to discover that no friendly sail 
was visible within the range of the horizon, 
for our rescue. Left alone in that vast soli- 
tude of sea and sky, it only now remained for 
us to seek our safety by making for the near- 
est land, or to die in the endeavour. We 
were but " in the beginning of sorrows, and 
our first business was to commit ourselves tn 



IN THE BOATS. 29 

God. Gathering our boats as closely as pos- 
sible together, we joined in singing the 38th 
Psalm, 1 — 5th verses, and by prayer " pour- 
ed out our complaint before God, and show- 
ed before him our trouble." Being comforted 
by this exercise, we immediately thereafter 
commenced active preparations for our mel- 
ancholy voyage. Our first object was to rig 
a mast and sail in each boat. We had only 
oars to form our masts, and a top-gallant 
studding sail and royal fore sails. With some 
small lines, shrouds and stays were made ; 
and by six o'clock in the morning all the 
three boats were under sail for our destina- 
tion. I then commenced to overhaul our 
stock of supplies, and found that we had two 
small cheeses, two hams, only about twenty- 
four gallons of water, and seventy or eighty 
pounds of bread, which was damaged by salt 
water, with a half gallon of rum, a half gal- 
lon of brandy, and a few bottles of wine. 
This supply was by no means adequate to 
sustain life among such a company for many 
days. I therefore called the boats together, 



30 THE SUFFERINGS 

and told the people that we could not expect 
to make the land in less than ten or twelve 
days, and it might take a day or two more ; 
that our stock of water and provisions was 
far short, and that therefore we must come at 
once on short allowance. I am happy to 
say tli at all acquiesced with the proposition, 
and, indeed, showed throughout the happiest 
spirit of subordination and harmony. Our 
small allowance was then distributed, which 
gave a little bread, which was repeated in the 
evening, and only three table spoonfuls of 
water to each per day. At noon I got an 
observation for the latitude, and found it 35 
(leg. 37 sec. south, and longitude 9 deg. 15 
sec. east of Greenwich. We again engaged 
in the worship of God, and sought to keep 
the boats in close company. But as day de- 
dined the weather looked wild; and the 
men in the small boat, being afraid of her 
capsizing during the night, I had to divide 
her company between the long-boat and 
skiff, and cast her adrift. Nine persons were 
thus in the skiff, and nineteen in the long- 



IN THE BOATS. 31 

boat, which sank us very deep in the water, 
and uncomfortably overcrowded us. The 
long-boat was particularly uncomfortable, be- 
ing lumbered with our small stock of provi- 
sions ; and, having been used as a stall for 
cattle, we were not only soaked with sea- 
water, but smeared with filth. Our distress- 
ing situation may easily be supposed, with a 
promiscuous company of ladies and children 
crowded together without the means of sepa- 
ration, and exposed night and day to the 
action of all the rudest elements. We how- 
ever washed our boat, which served somewhat 
to improve our condition. At the close of 
day we again sang praise to God, and implor- 
ed his protection and blessing. The regular 
performance of this duty was a great comfort 
to us in our misery, and I was Avell assisted 
in its discharge by Mr. Wallace the mate, my 
brother William, and nephew John, as well 
as by some of the passengers, all of whom 
occasionally conducted the devotions. We 
made it our endeavour to unite both boats in 
one exercise of daily praise and prayer, and 



32 THE SUFFERINGS 

when this was impracticable, service was 
separately conducted in the skiff by George 
Davidson and Thomas Souter, seamen. In 
no case, to the best of my knowledge, was 
this duty omitted from being performed three 
times a day, so that we could say, with the 
Psalmist, " Evening, and morning, and at 
noon, we pray and cry aloud, and he shall 
hear our voice.' r 

During the night the wind blew freshly 
from the south, and the sea was so heavy, 
that I was obliged to deviate to the north of 
my course a little, in the hope of regaining 
my leeway by a future and more favourable 
wind and sea. But although it would have 
been hard work to fetch the Cape of Good 
Hope even with a fairer wind, we could not 
help ourselves, as our little boats could not 
breast the billows, and yet we hauled them 
as close to the wind as we dared. The moon 
shone on us during a part of that night, and 
enabled us to keep the boats together ; but 
when she set, we were greatly distressed by 
the danger of separating. At length day 



IN THE BOATS. 33 

light came to the relief of our sleepless and 
anxious watching, but only to the increase 
of our other sorrows. This day the people 
pleaded with tears for an increase to the al- 
lowance of water, and my soul yearned for 
the petitioners ; but although I felt the 
strength of their craving in my own fevered 
frame, I dared not accede to their request. 
I knew that our distance from land rendered 
it certain destruction for us to increase our 
expenditure, unless, indeed, some friendly 
bark should cross our path, which we could 
not certify, and which certainly never occur- 
red. I therefore earnestly exhorted them to 
make the best use of the small quantity al- 
lowed, by dividing it into three daily distribu- 
tions. This was done in the long-boat, and 
we felt the benefit of it, in the more frequent 
moistening of our palate, and the easier mas- 
tication of our bread. At noon I obtained an 
observation, and found the latitude 34 deg. 49 
min. south, and calculated our longitude at 11 
deg.40 min. east. A little wine was distributed 
this day along with the usual allowance 



34 THE SUFFERINGS 

of water, which was greedily swallowed- 
Towards evening another earnest appeal 
came from the people in the skiff for an addi- 
tional allowance of water, which I was com- 
pelled to refuse. Contrary to my injunctions, 
they had swallowed their allowance at one 
draught, and were therefore in agony till the 
time for next day's supply. I learned, also, 
that some of them had begun to drink salt 
w r ater, which I sought in vain to prevent. I 
told them that if they persisted they would 
become delirious, which, alas ! was soon too 
painfully realized. 

The wind lulled a little about midnight, 
but the darkness greatly distressed Us, and 
about four o'clock we lost sight of the skifT. 
We immediately lowered our sail, and with 
difficulty got a light in the lantern, awaiting 
the result with intense anxiety. For half an 
hour this distressing suspense continued, 
when, to our great relief, the boat re-appear- 
ed. Night ere long again departed, but with 
each returning day we found the sufferings 
of our company on the increase ; cold and 



IN THE BOATS. 35 

thirst were making shocking inroads among 
us. Up to this time we had never been able to 
stretch our stiffened limbs, and we had all the 
while been thoroughly drenched by the con- 
stant action of the sea. This day, however, 
being more favourable, we got our clothes 
partially dried, and managed to erect a tem- 
porary bulwark of blankets on the weather- 
side, which afforded some additional shelter 
from the elements. This enabled us to per- 
form our worship " with a little reviving," 
and we partook of our scanty allowance with 
increasing appetite. My observation for this 
day was latitude 34 deg. 30 min. south, and 
longitude 12 deg. 49 min. east. Towards 
evening the wind and sea increased from the 
south-west, and as I could not make my 
course good, I allowed the boats to run, so as 
to make all the easting possible. At mid- 
night the moon went down, and as the sea 
ran very high, we had difficulty to preserve 
the boats in company during the darkness. 
Our candles were scanty, so that we could 
not burn constant light, and we longed ex- 



36 THE SUFFERINGS 

ceedingly for the coming 1 of day. By this 
time our distresses were very grievous ; the 
midnight sea had thoroughly soaked every 
one of us, and several of our people gave de- 
cisive symptoms of insanity, especially two 
of the passengers in the skiff, who had per- 
sisted in drinking the salt water. In the 
morning the weather became more moderate ; 
at noon we were in latitude 34 deg. 34 min. 
south, and longitude 14 deg. 37 min. east, so 
that I concluded, if the weather should keep 
favourable, that in three days' sail we might 
make the land. The wretched condition ot 
our company towards evening constrained me 
to administer a little wine, and an additional 
half of a wine glassful of water to each ; I 
exhorted them to use it sparingly, as I dread- 
ed a stormy night ; but the people in the skiff 
consumed it on the instant. Milder weather 
succeeded in the morning, which enabled us 
to dry our clothes. In the afternoon we rig- 
ged a temporary jib, with a sheet for a stud- 
ding-sail, and the crew of the skiff did the 
same. I tried for an observation, and found 



IN THE BOATS. 37 

the latitude 34 cleg. 12 min, but my chrono- 
meter by this time was nearly useless for the 
calculation of longitude, and I guessed it to 
be 15 deg. 47 min. east. The cry for water 
at this time became heart-rending, especially 
from the children in the skiff; their piercing 
screams went to my inmost soul, and yet I 
durst not be subdued by them ; therefore, 
with a feigned sternness, which my heart dis- 
allowed, I was compelled to order the skiff to 
shear off, so that I might at least be released 
from listening to their anguish, which I could 
neither bear nor brave. 

Again evening and morning came, and 
still as our course lengthened our woes in- 
creased. The night and morning were in- 
tensely cold, and a hollow sea again had 
drenched us to the skin. The people seemed 
to have reached a state of utter exhaustion, 
not unmingled with the indifference of des- 
pair. They appeared to have lost all relish 
for food, and water was the only cry ; several 
of them had persisted in taking salt water, 
which it was impossible to prevent, as there 
4 



38 THE SUFFERINGS 

were but eight or nine inches of free side 
from the sea. so that they put out their hand 
through the night and took it. The conse- 
quence was, that two in our boat, and the 
same number in the skiff, were quite delirious, 
while several others in both boats gave symp- 
toms of the same distressing state. The la- 
dies throughout behaved with magnanimity, 
and even the endurance of the children was 
admirable. The best arrangements were 
indeed made for them which we could com- 
mand. We appropriated the stern sheets to 
the ladies, as the most comfortable ; and for 
their accommodation I had to sit upon the 
gunwale, while steering the boat. This post 
was only filled by the mate and myself, as 
there was no other to whom I could confide 
it ; but he, being very unwell, from having 
been crushed by the w T ater-cask, the heaviest 
share of the duty devolved upon me. The 
skiff was managed by Thomas Souter and 
George Davidson, whose excellent seaman- 
ship was beyond all praise. The people 
seemed to be so depressed and inclined to 



IN THE BOATS. 39 

sleep, that in the evening I mixed a little rum 
with their allowance of water, which partially 
revived them. The night was setting in 
very gloomily, and as our evening song min- 
gled with the rising tempest, I am sure that 
our hearts sympathized with its plea. It was 
Psalm vi. 

Lord, in thy wrath rebuke me not ; 
Nor in thy hot rage chasten me, &c. 

Our chapter this evening was Acts xxvii., 
and we prayed that the God who stood by 
Paul, in his perils and shipwreck, would pre- 
serve the lives of all who sailed with us. 
The night was very dark and stormy, with a 
heavy sea ; every wave was broken on the 
top, and we were nearly smothered by the 
spray. It required all our skill to keep the 
sea from breaking on board of us. I gave 
orders to the men to stand ready with our 
three buckets, in case, amid the darkness, 
any wave should make a breach on us. At 
length, about midnight, one frightful billow 
rose close to the boat, and broke right over 



40 THE SUFFERINGS 

us. A slight scream rose from our company 
at the instant, and I thought our fate was 
sealed, as the boat was nearly filled with wa- 
ter, and staggered under the stroke, as if set- 
tling in the trough of the sea. I, however, 
got her right before the wind, and during a 
short smooth which providentially succeeded, 
she was bailed with all despatch, and righted. 
The skiff had been in no better condition, 
and nothing but the most masterly seaman- 
ship could have preserved her afloat. Fre- 
quently we lost sight of each other during 
the darkness, and our matches being wet, we 
could no longer hold out a signal-light as for- 
merly. " By the good hand of our God upon 
us," however, we were mutually preserved, 
and kept together during that dismal night. 

A frowning morning succeeded, and found 
our companions worse than ever. I immedi- 
ately served a small allowance, which revived 
us all ; indeed I was at this time myself 
greatly exhausted, having kept the helm with- 
out stirring for thirty-six hours, on account 
of the illness of the mate. My sextant hav- 



IN THE BOATS. 41 

ing been spoiled by the loss of its top, I was 
now no longer able to keep our reckoning 
except by guess. I was in hopes that the gale 
would subside at noon, and permit us to take 
a more southerly course, so as to fetch the 
Cape, but I was unhappily disappointed. 
The storm only increased in severity, and 
the sea broke around us with redoubled fury, 
driving in the temporary bulwarks, which we 
had re-erected after the night's disaster. I 
calculated that at this time we were about 
seventy miles from land, but the brackish co- 
lour of the water led me to suppose that we 
might be nearer, and, being afraid to make 
the coast in the night, I resolved to stand to 
the nosth till midnight, it being impossible to 
ride the boats by bridle or otherwise in such 
a sea. To this all parties gave consent, and 
I issued orders accordingly. I confess that I 
,had almost no hope of seeing morning, and 
therefore told the skiff's crew that if anything 
happened to us through the night, they must 
stand in for the land, and do the best they 
could. My gloomy forebodings were shared 
'4* 



42 THE SUFFERINGS 

by all, except those — to the number of six or 
seven — who were by this time insensible to 
everything around them. After partaking of 
our allowance with thanksgiving, we commit- 
ted ourselves to the Lord of life and death? 
and took leave of each other without the 
hope of meeting again in this world. In the 
early part of the night our little boats behaved 
admirably in their conflict with the tremen- 
dous sea, and at eleven o'clock we shifted our 
small sail, and stood directly in for the land. 
The skifT followed, but at midnight the wind 
and waves increased in fury, and a tremen- 
dous billow broke close astern of us, which 
seemed to swallow up our dear companions. 
We strained our aching vision to catch the 
re-appearance of their little mast, but in vain ; 
with trembling anxiety we then lowered down 
our sail, and, after great difficulty, got a light 
in the lantern, but it was soon extinguished, 
and, after long and anxious waiting, no trace 
of the skirl was visible, and we gave them 
up as lost, believing "that the deep had 
covered them." The sea was breaking so 



IN THE BOATS. 43 

heavily over the stern, while there was no way 
on our boat, that we were in danger of foun- 
dering, so that we were compelled, with deep 
4istress, again to make sail, and pursue our 
course. Life was now faint within me, and 
I felt as if " the bitterness of death was past." 
A cold shiver had seized my frame, and I was 
inclined to resign all further effort. By the 
administration of a tea-spoonful of wine, 
however, I rallied a little, and maintained 
my post at the helm throughout the night. 

Morning at length broke, but there was no 
appearance of our companions, and all hope 
of their restoration departed. Our morning 
meal was consumed in melancholy silence, 
and our " grief was heavier than our groan- 
ing" in our morning prayers. Four persons 
in our boat were in extreme exhaustion, and 
one of them — a passenger — named George 
Peat, was evidently in a dying state. The 
weather looked more mild, and I sought to 
rally their spirits : with three of them I par- 
tially succeeded, but Peat took no notice of 
anything, save to suck greedily his allowance 



44 



THE SUFFERINGS 



of water. In the forenoon the sun broke 
through the clouds, and shed an agreeable 
warmth to which we had long been stran- 
gers, so that we took off our wet clothes, and 
hung them up to dry. The hope of seeing 
land revived the love of life within us, and, 
with the former exceptions, our company, in 
spite of the absence of our other boat, were 
in better spirits. At eleven o'clock a.m. the 
mate relieved me from the helm, and all were 
intent in looking out for the land. In this 
we were disappointed ; but the mate thought 
he descried something ahead like a mast or a 
sail. All eyes were turned in the direction 
with eagerness, but for a considerable time 
we could see nothing. At last another per- 
son saw something on the top of a heavy 
wave, and, as we drew nearer, a mast without 
a sail became distinctly visible. Could it be 
our brethren ? was anxiously inquired by 
every one ; and indeed it was. Poor fellows ! 
they had tasted nothing for more than twen- 
ty-four hours. At the time when they dis- 
appeared they were overwhelmed in the belly 



IN THE BOATS. 45 

of a tremendous broken sea, and their boat 
was nearly rilled. Their little mast was car- 
ried away, and one of them was washed 
overboard, but catching hold of the boat, they 
had hauled him in again. By extraordinary 
exertions they then bailed their boat, got their 
mast replaced, and, pursuing our course, in 
their anxiety to overtake us, had actually 
passed us before daylight. How we ever met 
again w T as a mystery to all; but " it was the 
Lord's doing, and it was marvelous in our 
eyes." I shall not attempt to describe the 
scene of our remarkable greeting. It was 
not joyous, for alas, we had now 7 become 
strangers to every emotion of gladness ; but 
we grasped each other's hands, and our full 
hearts found vent in silent tears. Our souls 
had become knit together in the fellowship of 
suffering, and in the midst of deaths, we ce- 
lebrated their restoration as a deliverance 
from the grave. Of course they received im- 
mediate refreshment and a little wine was 
distributed to the whole company on the 
occasion. Our noontide worship, which was 



40 THE SUFFERINGS IN THE BOATS. 

mutually conducted, arose from overflowing 
hearts ; and although our common woes were 
nothing abated, we caught something of the 
spirit of our hymn while we sung. 

Let troubles rise, aud terrors frown, 

And days of darkness fall, 
Through Him all dangers we'll defy, 

And more than conquer all. 



THE FORLORN LANDING. 47 



CHAPTER III. 

THE FORLORN LANDING. 

" They are at their wit's end. Then they cry unto the 
Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of 
their distresses. He maketh the storm a calm, so 
that the waves thereof are still. Then ive they glad 
because they be quiet." 

So soon as our heartfelt congratulations 
had blended and been breathed out in prayer, 
hope became faintly rekindled in each yet 
conscious bosom of our distressed company ; 
and with all our lingering energies of life, we 
made for the yet invisible shore. " The wrath 
of God lay hard upon us," and, for so many 
days "we had been afflicted with all his 
waves, that we felt as if all safety consisted 
only in escape from ocean's "deeps." And 
yet I was not without apprehension, that 
what we so fondly anticipated as the occasion 



48 THE FORLORN 

of deliverance, might prove the fatal scene of 
our doom. The imminent danger of ap- 
proaching a comparatively unknown coast, 
especially amid the heavy roll of Cape seas, 
and in such small boats as ours, demanded 
the exercise of every possible precaution, and 
suggested forebodings of no very pleasing 
issue. By my calculations we had been 
driven to the north of St. Helena Bay. which, 
by its bend, gave us forty miles more of sea 
to traverse than if we had been able to keep 
a more southerly course. On consulting a 
small fragment of chart — which one of the 
ladies had preserved for us, from the action 
of the sea, in her bosom, — I found, to our 
great relief, that the coast for which we were 
making was free of any outside shoals, and 
appeared favourable for our landing. We 
therefore made all speed to reach the shore if 
possible before nightfall ; in this, however, we 
were disappointed ; and a dense fog ahead 
hid the object of our solicitude from view, 
until night descended, and shrouded the sur- 
rounding landscape in darkness. The weath- 



LANDING. 49 

er being moderate I resolved to prosecute our 
course throughout the night, and endeavour 
to effect our landing at daylight. The eve- 
ning proved intensely cold, and we endured 
more acute suffering from the wind and 
spray, during those hours of darkness, than 
we had ever done before. This was probably 
caused by our preserving a more southerly 
course, and keeping the sheet hauled aft, 
which exposed us to the action of the sea, 
and sent the wind right down on us from the 
sail. Ere morning came a cold shiver had 
consequently seized every frame, and several 
persons in both boats were quite unable to 
stir. 

About five o'clock the skiff hailed us, and 
communicated the melancholy tidings that 
the lad John Chisholm was dead. This was 
the first breach made among us, and it fell 
among our wasting company like a forerun- 
ner of our own fate. We were all closely 
"round the grave's devouring mouth," and 
now that it had found its first victim, we felt 
assured that others would follow. George 
5 



50 THE FORLORN 

Peat, in our boat, was only in life, and several 
persons in both boats were visibly sinking 
fast into the same unconscious state. I felt 
this visitation bitterly, as I was in full hope 
of reaching land in a few hours, and was 
sustained — by the signal mercy hitherto en- 
joyed — in the pleasing expectation that "God 
would have given us the lives of all who 
sailed with us." But "He who doeth accord- 
ing to his will" had deemed it otherwise, and 
our hearts smote us to think that we had 
been preserved amid many perils, possibly 
only to perish on the threshold of deliverance. 
Visions of land floated before our aching 
and anxious gaze throughout that weary 
night, and often we supposed that we could 
detect the dim outline of the headlands 
between the sea and sky. Still we trembled 
in uncertainty until morning came ; but 
when the sun arose, it looked clown upon us 
from behind the African hills, which stood in 
distinct outline before us at the distance of 
twelve miles. Then every heart bounded 
with hope, and the fading energies of life re- 



LANDING. 51 

vived within us. We greeted the glad spec- 
tacle with our morning incense, and poured 
out our thanksgiving to God our Ebenezer. 
There was a beautiful propriety in the sub- 
ject of our song, which then rose on the 
morning air, from the margin of that mighty 
ocean. It was Psalm xlvi., 



In straits a present aid ; 
Therefore although the earth remove, 
We will not be afraid. 

Though hills amidst the seas be cast, 

Though waters roaring make 
And troubled be ; yea, though the hill 

By swelling seas do shake." 

Scarcely had these sublime words passed 
our lips, ere we felt the awful importance 
and value of the holy sentiment. Our eyes 
could now detect a long line of frowning and 
iron-bound coast, fringed only with foam, and 
hoary with tremendous breakers. No friend- 
ly opening was visible, along that fearful bar- 
rier, and we looked in vain for some quiet 



52 THE FORLORN 

creek amid the strife, where ocean might 
peacefully surrender the helpless charge 
which longed for escape from its horrors. 
As if to increase the solemnity of our condi- 
tion, the wind at this time began to rise, and 
a heavy ground swell rolled in from the 
south-west, so that it needed no ordinary 
faith to prepare with calmness for the ap- 
proaching crisis. But our only course was to 
face the danger, and trust to God for deliver- 
ance. I sent the small boat, ahead, to exa- 
mine the coast, if possible to find a creek for 
convenient landing, it being lighter than our 
boat, and having thafts for easy rowing, 
which we had not. I then sought to rally 
the spirits of my crew by a little exertion : 
getting out the oars, I exhorted them to try 
the exercise of rowing a little, and took a 
spell myself. With great difficulty I succeed- 
ed in inducing the most of them to make the 
attempt, and we felt the benefit of the effort, 
in a freer circulation of our blood, which 
served to relax our stiffened joints, and re- 
lieved us of the cold shivering. 



LANDING. 53 

The breeze continued strong, and the sea 
was very heavy, until we approached within 
half a mile of the shore ; when God — as if 
in sympathy with our situation, and prepar- 
ing our way — subdued the wind, and made 
the strife of waters partially to subside. This 
gracious interposition made a deep impression 
upon us all. and we felt animated by it, in 
our very critical circumstances, as a foretaste 
of deliverance. At this time, a small rock 
which appeared to windward, presented to our 
eager eyes for a season the likeness of a sail ; 
and we were delighted for the moment with 
the idea, that the coast which we were ap- 
proaching might be inhabited ; but a nearer 
view soon dispelled the illusion, and left us 
to a scene only of wild and desert solitude. 
Our small boat had now gone close in with 
the shore, in search of a landing-place, while 
we remained at a short distance on the out- 
side, to wait for instructions. Our compan- 
ions, in their eagerness to execute their survey, 
had unfortunately got themselves embayed, 
and in attempting to weather a projecting 



54 THE FORLORN 

point, they failed ; so that, in their extremity, 
one course only remained to them — for life or 
death they had to run for the beach. We, 
seeing this sudden movement, and supposing 
that our friends had discovered a favourable 
landing-place, bore up, and followed closely 
in their track. By signs and cries they at- 
tempted to warn us off; but we, mistaking 
their signals for encouragement, only pursued 
with increasing speed. It was a moment of 
intense and trembling interest to us all ; death 
or deliverance hung upon the instant, and 
our hearts were fully alive to the immediate 
and awful alternative. Every faded and 
haggard countenance became flushed with 
eager excitement ; every eye was strained to 
watch on either hand the impending fate ; 
every hand grasped the gunwale with con- 
vulsive and trembling energy, and we held 
our breath in awe, as we dashed among the 
breakers, and plunged amid those fearful 
rocks and shoals. Surely the eye of heaven 
was watching over us in that unchosen and 
accidental landing-scene ; for amidst many 



LANDING. DO 

perils, it presented favourable opportunities 
for us — in a narrow channel among a cluster 
of small rocks, which was crowned with a 
sand beach — that no human foresight could 
have detected, and that was rare on that 
coast. Our small boat, indeed, was in ex- 
treme jeopardy ; for in the midst of the break- 
ers it struck upon a sharp rock, and some of 
the crew were thrown overboard by the shock. 
The sail, however, being still set, the next 
wave lifted it over, and the wind and sea 
being dead in shore, drove them right up to 
the beach, where, amid many difficulties, they 
effected a landing, and rescued their comrades 
in a state of great exhaustion. We in the 
larger boat were somewhat more fortunate ; 
for "by the good hand of God upon us," we 
made our way safely through a narrow chan- 
nel, among the small rocks, without touching, 
until we came within a boat's length of the 
beach, where we stuck fast upon a rock. 
There being deep water between us and the 
shore, we were all plunged overhead in our 
attempts to escape ; but the ladies and chii- 



56 THE FORLORN 

dren being assisted by the mate and seamen, 
were soon placed in safety ; and " so it came 
to pass, that we escaped all safe to land.'" 

This signal deliverance — alike so gracious 
and remarkable — revealed in all its course 
and accomplishment, the direct and immedi- 
ate agency of God, and could be attributed 
solely to his marked interposition and care. 
No human foresight or management could 
have availed to preserve so helpless a com- 
pany in such extremities. With boats so 
frail, and means of sustenance so slender, 
nothing less than Omnipotent kindness could 
have sustained us throughout a voyage so 
disproportionate to all our preparations, and 
so encompassed with exceeding dangers. If 
our course, indeed, revealed no miracles, it 
was at least replete with special mercies ; for 
had we been visited by a few days of head 
winds, or been overtaken by any of the fear- 
ful squalls so common in Cape seas, or even 
made our landfall on a bold and unbroken 
coast, not one of us would have survived in 
such a case to tell the tale of our disasters. 



LANDING. 57 

and our last struggles would have been hid 
in the dark and terrible secrets of ocean, 
which, like the grave, gives no revelations. 
We had been led to look to God in all our 
way : even the good order and discipline 
which had been maintained, we felt we owed 
to his grace ; and while we had used our best 
endeavours for our preservation, yet without 
his blessing, we were conscious that every 
exertion must have been without avaih 
Therefore, when God had " been better to us 
than our fears," and "redeemed our lives 
from destruction," our utmost gratitude was 
due to him. and we invite men " to see his 
hand," and " to praise the Lord for his good- 
ness, and for his wonderful works to the chil- 
dren of men." 

If it had been possible, at that solemn 
hour, to have forgotten or overlooked the 
signal kindness of heaven, even the continu- 
ous manifestations of Divine goodness to us 
must have, on the instant, rebuked such base 
ingratitude. Scarcely had the feet of our 
forlorn company been permitted to touch the 



58 THE FORLORN 

shore, when the storm, which had lulled pre- 
viously to our landing, burst forth with redou- 
bled fury, and raged without intermission 
during the whole time that we remained in 
that place. The sea arose in ungovernable 
wrath, and as it lashed the shore, lifted our 
little boats upon its billows to a height of 
forty or fifty feet upon the beach. The nar- 
row channel through which we had reached 
the shore in safety instantly became one scene 
of boiling surge, which would have shattered 
to pieces the proudest bark, and engulphed 
every living thing on board of her. Who 
could fail to discover the striking proof of a 
special and gracious Providence in this occur- 
rence ? If it be said that such sudden storms 
frequently occur in these latitudes, still the 
question arises, — why did that storm come at 
the precise moment when we were immedi- 
ately out of the reach of its fury ? There 
can be but one answer to this inquiry, — it 
was the good pleasure of him " who gave to 
the sea its decree, that it cannot pass, and 
who compasseth its waters with bounds. 



LANDING. 59 

Our company stood awe-stricken at the sight. 
We looked back upon the scene of destruc- 
tion, from which we had so recently escaped, 
with mingled feelings of dismay and grati- 
tude. Our deliverance, indeed, was not yet 
complete. Alas ! who could tell whether, — 
'' having escaped the sea, — vengeance might 
yet suffer us to live ?" " The perils of the wil- 
derness" lay before us in all their unknown 
horrors of toil, and thirst, and frightful fa- 
mine. Still we had been delivered from "the 
floods that affrighted us," — our bosoms swelled 
with the full sense of our rescue, and while 
we raised our song of deliverance and poured 
out our grateful prayers to God, there were 
many devout hearts in our circle who could 
appropriate the sentiment of the poet : — 

Thus far on life's perplexing path, 
Thus far the Lord onr steps hath led ; 
Safe from the flame's pursuing wrath, 
Unharmed though floods hung o'er our head. 
Here let us pause — look back — adore, 
Like ransom'd Israel from the shore. 



60 MARCH THROUGH 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE MELANCHOLY MARCH THROUGH THE 
WILDERNESS. 

•' They wandered in the wilderness in a solitary way, 
they found no city to dwell in. Hungry and thirsty, 
their soul fainted in thern. Then they cried unto the 
Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them out of 
their distresses." 

The first view of our solitary landing- 
place revealed to us a wild and barren re- 
gion. Neither traces of cultivation, nor marks 
of human abode, nor even tracks of living 
creature, met our eye in all the adjacent land- 
scape ; and my heart misgave me at the pros- 
pect, lest we had only exchanged the scene 
of our miseries, but not escaped from them 
The idea of delay in obtaining succours was 
too painful to indulge, for every hour only 
added to the horrors of our situation. 



THE WILDERNESS. 61 

Our scanty supplies were rapidly wasting 
away, and the strength of the people was al- 
ready well nigh spent by fatigue and famine. 
I dared not to anticipate the consequences of 
even a short continuance of such a state of 
things, and felt that our utmost efforts must, 
be directed to urgent measures for immediate 
deliverance. 

Meanwhile, every arrangement was made 
for present exigencies. A small refreshment 
was distributed immediately after landing, 
and our weary men set about the erection of 
tents, which were soon reared, by lashing a 
few spars together and overlaying them with 
sails and blankets. This shelter was pecu- 
liarly seasonable to persons, who, for nine 
days and nights had not known the luxury 
of lying down, or resting their exhausted 
frames ; especially as an African sun was 
blazing in noon-tide brilliancy, and with in 
surTerable fierceness over our heads. Om 
wasted people soon betook themselves to 
repose and I was pleased to find that the 
greater number of them were soon lost in 
6 



62 MARCH THROUGH 

sweet forgetfulness of all their woes. As for 
myself, sleep had so long been a stranger to 
my aching frame, that it refused at first to 
revisit me, and my mind was too anxiously 
concerned for the future to court its present 
approach. So soon, therefore, as I found the 
others asleep, Mr. Wallace the mate, and I — 
who had lain down together, and were alike 
wakeful — rose up and went forth to consult 
as to our future course of proceeding. We 
were agreed in thinking that the parched and 
desolate appearance of the place gave little 
hope of finding water, or of obtaining relief; 
and that our whole and instant efforts must 
be directed to discover succours by sea or 
land. Two courses only presented them- 
selves : the first, which was to re-enter the 
boats, and endeavour to reach tbe Cape colo- 
ny by sea, was plainly impracticable from the 
severity of the weather; the sea at that 
moment being visible below us in its wildest 
majesty, as it thundered its mountainous bil- 
lows against the base of the rocks, and scat- 
tered its angry foam over the cliffs to a hun- 



THE WILDERNESS. 63 

dred and twenty feet above its bed. Besides, 
we were conscious that even in calmest wea- 
ther, our company could not possibly survive 
for twenty-four hours, under a renewed expo- 
sure and crowding in the boats, without a 
fresh supply of water and provisions. We 
were shut up, therefore, to the only available 
alternative of seeking succour by a land 
journey, and by keeping a southerly course 
in the direction of the Cape, we hoped that 
we might soon reach some human habita- 
tion. I proposed that w T e should remain till 
the expiry of the following day, in order to 
recruit our people for the journey, and to 
complete the necessary preparations for our 
departure. Meanwhile a search could be 
made for water, and I would endeavour to 
obtain an observation at noon, in order to 
certify our exact latitude, and ascertain our 
distance from the Cape. This course was 
afterwards submitted to the whole company, 
and as it met their approval, it was adopted. 

We had carried George Peat ashore from 
(he boat in a dying state. Every thing was 



f>4 MARCH THROUGH 

done for his comfort which our circumstances 
would permit, but the poor lad was beyond 
the reach of relief. He lingered in painful 
unconsciousness till the following morning, 
when he died. The body ol John Chisholm 
was also brought on shore in the skiff, and 
covered with the Union Jack, until we had 
leisure to dig a grave. The two youths were 
respectfully buried on the successive after- 
noons, divine service being performed at their 
interment. They lie side by side on that de- 
sert shore where they met their fate, and their 
pilgrimage ceased, — where no footstep of 
friendship shall ever trace the unknown 
?cene of their last repose, and only the mur- 
murs of ocean disturb its solitary stillness. 

After evening service had been conducted 
in the tent, we kindled a fire to preserve us 
from any attacks of wild beasts, and com- 
mitted ourselves to rest. I enjoyed a few 
hours of sweet sleep that evening, for the first 
time after my long watching, and awoke con- 
siderably refreshed and invigorated. By four 
o'clock in the morning our whole party were 



THE WILDERNESS. 65 

astir, and went off in detachments at da} T - 
light, to seaich for water ; but after wander- 
ing for two hours, in survey of all the sur- 
rounding coast, they returned, as we feared, 
dispirited and unsuccessful. A vegetable was 
found in great abundance which was full of 
sap, but on tasting it we discovered that it 
was saturated w T ith salt, and unfit for use. 
The only supply which the region afforded 
was shell-fish, which for the same reason. 
with our scanty allowance of water, could 
only be sparingly used. The situation of our 
tent in the low grounds was now found to be 
insufferable on account of the intense heat, 
so that I proposed to shift it to the rising 
ground behind, in order to obtain a freer cir- 
culation of air. But our people were so fee- 
ble as to be unfit for the exertion, and it was 
only after great labour, and by bribing them 
with a tea-spoonful of wine, that this mea- 
sure of relief was accomplished. The ladies 
meanwhile were employed, in preparations 
for our journey of the following day, by 
making canvass bags to hold our provisions : 
6* 



66 MARCH THROUGH 

and the precious remainder of water was 
emptied from the cask into bottles and jars, 
so as to be easy of carriage on the road. T 
could only get an overhead observation for 
the latitude at noon, in consequence of the 
sun being over the land. My calculation 
agreed with my previous conjecture, that we 
were north of the Oliphant (or Elephant's) 
River, about eleven miles; but as Node's 
Epitome, which was my only book of refer- 
once snatched from the burning ship, gave 
me no example for working such an altitude, 
I could not certify the accuracy of the reck- 
oning. However, my repeated trials con- 
vinced me that I could not be more than a 
mile or two from the truth, and we deter- 
mined, therefore, to start in that direction on 
the morrow, in the hope of finding some set- 
tlement on the river's banks. 

Our preparations for departure being com- 
pleted, we lay down to sleep, under the same 
precautions as on the previous night, and 
were aroused at four o'clock to pursue our 
journey. Previous to starting, I distributed 



THE WILDERNESS. 67 

among the ladies and cabin passengers, so 
far as they would go, seven of my white 
shirts to serve as change of linen, they having 
been discovered in the boat on our landing. 
We had at this time six days' allowance of 
water, at the rate of three bottles a day to 
our twenty-six persons, or scarcely three 
table-spoonfuls to each, which, in our already 
fevered and maddening thirst, and under a 
broiling tropical sun, was not nearly sufficient 
to sustain life. A small surplus, however, 
was found in the water-cask after all our 
bottles were filled, which was distributed 
among the company, and served to refresh us 
at departure. We broke some oars for carry- 
ing-poles, and distributed the stores among 
the responsible persons in the company, with 
strict injunctions that they should restrict 
themselves to the general allowance, as any 
breach of fidelity might sacrifice the lives of 
the whole party. After the celebration of 
divine worship, in which we committed our 
way to God, we set out on our melancholy 
journey. Our road lay before us through " a 



68 MARCH THROUGH 

waste howling wilderness," and we "went 
out, not knowing whither we went ;" but our 
trust was in that God, "who had found Israel 
in a desert land, and kept him as the apple 
of his eye," and we hoped that he would lead 
us also forth "by a right way, that we might 
q-o to a place of habitation." 

Our company presented a most wretched 
appearance in the march, and we soon proved 
ourselves to be indeed miserable travellers. 
Our limbs had swelled to an inordinate size 
in consequence of our confinement and ex- 
posure in the boats, and they were so stiffen- 
ed with inactivity as only to be dragged 
along with difficulty. The ground over 
which we toiled our way was unfavourable 
for progress in our faint condition, being, for 
the most part, loose and sandy, and occasion- 
ally tangled with small shrubs : and as we 
went our way. struggling, and staggering 
beneath our light loads, we bore a striking 
resemblance to the last remnant of a famished 
garrison, or the latest fugitive survivors of a 
siege We accomplished about a mile, when 



THE WILDERNESS. 69 

we sat down to rest, and stripped ourselves of 
all our upper clothing, on account of the op- 
pressive heat. After a short pause we again 
resumed our journey, and with great difficulty 
reached a similar distance. It was only after 
much persuasion that I induced them again 
to stir ; but there was no shelter in the place 
from the fierce rays of the sun ; and I was 
extremely anxious, in our desperate circum- 
stances, which were every moment growing 
darker, to make all the progress possible. 
About noon we discovered two huts under 
the cliff, and were of course anxious to reach 
them ; but they were inaccessible to us, in our 
weak condition. We halloed, however, with 
all our might, to find if they had any inmates ; 
but as " there was no voice that answered, 
neither any that regarded," we justly concluded 
that they were uninhabited, and could furnish 
no relief to us, so that we turned mournfully 
away, and pursued our journey. I afterwards 
learned that these huts belonged to a fishing 
company, and were deserted ; a few casks of 
water were kept there, for the supply of their 



70 MARCH THROUGH 

vessels, but these were kept under ground, so 
that we would have found no relief by visiting 
the place, and most probably would have 
perished in the attempt. Soon after we like- 
wise descried traces of a path which led into 
the interior, which some of our people were 
inclined to follow ; but I dissuaded them from 
the attempt, as the coast was the coolest 
legion, as well as the most likely to lead us 
to water ; whereas we might only wander in 
the wilderness to die the most horrid death. 
We accomplished altogether about six miles 
by this day's journey, and halted at last, in 
utter exhaustion, on a promontory, where we 
were exposed to the sea breeze. 

On collecting our party, to overhaul onr 
stock, I found that one of the cabin passen- 
gers, who had been quite delirious for some 
days, having fallen behind us on the day's 
march, on account of weakness, had cast 
away his coat, containing two bottles of 
water, from anxiety to overtake his party. 
Every search was made for this lost treasure 
and valuable supply, but to no purpose. To 



THE WILDERNESS. 71 

add to the misfortune, another cabin passen- 
ger, from whose education I might have ex- 
pected better conduct, alone, of all the people, 
proved himself unworthy of trust. Of the 
two bottles committed to his charge, one was 
found empty. He had stolen from his party 
during the day, under pretence of tracking 
the path into the interior, and the temptation 
proving too strong for him, he had consumed 
a whole bottle for his own use. This I con- 
cealed from our people, for I am certain that ; 
if they had known it, they would have taken 
his life on the spot. But I was deeply grieved 
to find that a whole day's supply of this 
scarce and vital commodity had been lost to 
us through the imbecility and profligacy of 
our companions. To prevent the recurrence 
of such a calamity, which would have endan- 
gered the lives of all of us, I put the water, 
henceforth, under the charge of my confiden- 
tial seamen; and after our evening's repast 
and prayers, we betook ourselves to sleep. 

During night a heavy dew fell, mingled 
with a few drops of rain, which roused us 



72 MARCH THROUGH 

from our slumbers, and our people commenced 
greedily to suck the moisture from the blan- 
kets ; but they having been soaked by sea 
water, and only dried in the sun, were so 
impregnated with salt that we soon desisted 
from an endeavour which brought us no re- 
lief. As morning dawned our pleasing expec- 
tation of rain departed, and with heavy hearts 
we prepared to pursue our course. The con- 
dition of our people at this time was extreme- 
ly distressing, their faces had become bloated 
and disfigured, and their lips were rent and 
chapped, while the painful swelling in the 
arms and legs was rapidly on the increase, 
so that I apprehended some of them would 
not be able to hold on till night. I sought to 
rally their downcast spirits, by feigning a 
cheerfulness which I did not feel, and point- 
ing to some mountains in the south-east, I 
prompted them to proceed, by assuring them, 
that wherever mountains appeared, water 
was always to be found. I was certain, 
moreover, by the calculations which I had 
made, that we could not be more than five 



THE WILDERNESS. 73 

miles from Oliphant River, where 1 felt as- 
sured that relief would be afforded. We 
made indeed most wretched progress in that 
morning's journey ; ere three quarters of a 
mile had been accomplished, we were com- 
pelled to halt, and after receiving our allow- 
ance and singing a hymn, we proceeded on 
our way. Scarcely another mile had been 
overtaken ere we were again forced to rest 
ourselves, and here I felt alarmed lest some 
of the company should never be able to re- 
sume the march. The old gentleman, who 
had lost his coat on the previous day, was 
especially overcome ; he seemed so thoroughly 
exhausted in spirit, and so worn out in frame 
— being covered over with sores in face and 
limbs — that it seemed impossible to rouse him 
to any further effort, and others were inclined, 
with him, to resign themselves to despair. I 
was greatly perplexed how to act in this 
extremity. I could not bear to leave the 
wretched alone to die; and to detain the 
others on their account, would be certain de- 
struction to us all. In this painful crisis I 
7 



74 MARCH THROUGH 

secretly sought direction from God, and had 
resolved to remain with the desperate, leaving 
the others to press on, and send back for us 
if they should find succour. This purpose I 
only communicated to my brother William, 
and urged him to use every exertion to reach 
a place of safety, and in case of my death, 
to be kind to my dear wife and family. He, 
however, sternly refused to accede to my 
wishes, and declared his resolution, if I per- 
sisted, to abide and die with me. By his per- 
suasion I was shaken in my purpose, and by 
dint of great exertion, we managed to assist 
our invalids on through another stage. 

On looking out for our next halting-place, 
I observed a rising ground a little in advance 
of us, and urged our people to reach it ere 
they rested. This was done, because I 
thought something like the entrance of a 
river appeared beyond, and I was resolved to 
ascertain the fact by crowning the hill. We 
had nearly reached the place, when the mate, 
who was a little in advance, cried out, 
" There is the river." I ran forward at the 



THE WILDERNESS. 75 

transporting tidings, and by advancing a few 
paces, a scene of overpowering interest burst 
upon my view. Not only was the river dis- 
tinctly visible as it rolled its broad waters 
through a fertile valley, until they mingled 
with ocean at our feet ; but I could also dis- 
tinctly descry a settlement, with its dwelling- 
houses and offices, on the opposite bank. 
Never did scene more sweet open upon 
human vision, than met my ecstatic gaze in 
that landscape. I had no eye — no heart for 
its natural beauties ; but thoughts of life and 
of rescue arose within me in that glance. It 
seemed to me an opening paradise: visions 
of home — of happiness — rushed back upon 
my desolate soul. The tide of sorrow, in a 
heart ready to perish, was turned within me, 
and joy rose in such sudden revulsion from 
recent wretchedness, that I was completely 
overpowered. The same excess of emotion 
filled every heart that now crowded around 
at the tidings. We grasped each other's 
hands in convulsive silence ; our hearts were 
too full for utterance, and, for a considerable 



76 MARCH THROUGH 

time, tears were the only expression that 
came from our overcharged bosoms. Rap- 
ture was in our glance when we saw human 
beings moving about on the opposite bank, 
and we became rivetted in delighted gaze 
upon the neat white-washed house, with its 
clear blue smoke curling up into the sky, and 
all the accompaniments of European com- 
fort around it. I was the first to break the 
interesting silence, by saying, " Now, my 
dear friends, the Lord has led us by a way 
that we knew not, to a land inhabited." 
We then gave thanks to God, who had done 
so great things for us, and we served out a 
little of our remaining stock of water. As 
we were still a mile from the river, I preserved 
a small portion, in case the river water should, 
prove salt, which, on reaching it, Ave found 
to be the case. We had carried our English 
ensign as a signal in case of meeting any 
vessel, and now, by tying two broken oars 
together, we elevated it to attract the notice 
of the persons on the opposite bank. They 
evidently had descried us ; for we observed a 



THE WILDERNESS. 77 

boat push off from the shore, and advance 
straight toward us across the stream. This 
was to us a gracious token that the season 
of succour was at hand. We immediately 
thereupon drank off our last remaining bottle 
of water, and prepared to greet our deliverers. 
The moment of our rescue was especially 
interesting and solemn. While the boat ap- 
proached, we all joined hands and united in 
singing the 23d Psalm, and, as the faint con- 
cert arose from our famished group, it seemed, 
to our overflowing hearts, to ascend to hea- 
ven, alike as the devout dirge of our depart- 
ing sorrows, and the joyous anthem of our 
coming deliverance. 



78 THE RESCUE. 



CHAPTER V. 

THE RESCUE. 

" When the poor and needy seek water, and there is 
none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord 
will hear them, I the God of Israel will not forsake 
them. I will make the wilderness a pool of water, 
and the dry laud springs of water." 

The boat, which seemed to our view like 
a messenger of mercy, approached within 
hail, when, with due precaution, it halted, 
and to our delightful surprise a voice in the 
English language demanded to know who 
we were, and what was our business. We 
immediately declared our doleful story, when 
the party landed without farther ceremony, 
and told us that we had come among a 
Christian people. The meeting was most 
affecting on either side ; it was with difficulty 
that our people, in the ecstasy of rescue, could 
refrain from falling down at the feet of their 



THE RESCUE. 79 

deliverers ; and the strangers, as they sur- 
veyed our emaciated and wretched company, 
were quite unable to suppress their tears. 
Our first appeal to them was for water, and 
they communicated the joyful intelligence to 
us, that there was an excellent fountain on 
the other side, where our wants would be 
abundantly supplied. I immediately em- 
barked, in company with the ladies, and by 
three successive trips, the whole of our people 
were safely landed on the other side, where 
we were all received with unbounded affection 
and hospitality. We instantly repaired, with 
incontrollable avidity, to the fountain, where 
we sought to satiate our maddening thirst by 
deep and frequent draughts, until we had 
gorged ourselves with the exquisite supply, 
and felt life reflow in cooler currents through 
our parched and fevered frames. A princely 
meal was also provided for us on the instant 
consisting of a whole sheep, and part of a 
wild buck, which had been shot on the farm 
in the morning ; but our hearts were too full 
to possess a keen appetite, and we could only 



80 THE RESCUE. 

taste of the bounteous provision amid many 
tears, when we contrasted the scantiness and 
misery of our morning repast with our present 
profusion, and the hearts of many of us rose 
in silent gratitude to " God, who had done so 
great, things for us, whereof we were glad." 

We found that the settlement which we 
had reached belonged to a warm-hearted 
Dutch farmer, named Mynheer Low, of 
whose unbounded generosity and kindness it. 
is impossible for me to speak in excessive 
terms. His family consisted of an amiable 
wife and daughter, w T ho shared in all his own 
benevolence, and loaded us with attentions, 
which can never be forgotten, and it would 
be impossible to repay. 

The Englishman, who had accompanied 
our host in the* boat which ferried us over the 
river, and who acted as our interpreter during 
our stay, was a sailor belonging to a whale 
and seal fishing company. He had been left 
by his employers, in company with another 
person, to reside during the fishing season, on 
a neighbouring island, in order to preserve 



THE RESCUE. 81 

the fishing grounds, which were rented from 
the colonial government. He and his partner 
were obliged to visit the settlement very fre- 
quently for supplies of water, which they re- 
quired to keep, alike for their own use, and in 
case of their schooner running short during 
her voyage. I learned from this person that 
the coast to the north of Oliphant River is 
entirely destitute of water, and without in- 
habitants ; and I mention this in case any 
persons who peruse this narrative should be 
driven on this coast, that they may know 
where to obtain succour. Mr. Low's farm is 
situated on the south bank of the Oliphant 
River, about four miles from the sea, and two 
hundred miles from the Cape of Good Hope. 

Soon after our arrival I communicated with 
Mr. Low as to the necessary provision for our 
future accommodation. It was impossible 
with his limited resources, that he could lodge 
and sustain twenty-six persons for many 
days ; and it was plain from the distressing 
condition of our people, that they would re- 
quire several days of careful nursing and 



82 THE RESCUE. 

rest, before they could bear removal by land 
journey. 

Having learned that an English gentleman 
kept a store at Donkin's Bay, twenty -four 
miles distant, I immediately despatched a 
messenger to solicit his assistance. This per- 
son, whose name was Mr. R Fryer, proved 
to us to be indeed " a brother born for adver- 
sity." No language can adequately express 
his unremitting kindness and unceasing ex- 
ertions for our welfare, and for which he 
would never listen to any proposals of remu- 
neration whatever. He came down on horse- 
back immediately on receiving notice of our 
condition, and despatched a message to the 
nearest field cornet, to make provision for our 
succour. On his arrival he proposed to take 
the ladies at once to his house, they being 
the only parties fit to be removed. It may 
seem strange that the most delicate members 
of our company should have borne the hard- 
ships of our situation with greater hardihood 
than men of robust frame ; and yet it was 
remarkable throughout the whole of our af- 



THE RESCUE. 83 

Mictions, that the ladies and even the children 
bore the sufferings with the greatest magna- 
nimity, and discovered a spirit of patient en- 
durance which might have put to shame the 
hardiest men. It is thus that God sometimes, 
as of old, " out of weakness maketh strong." 
and causeth "things that are not to be as 
though they were, that no flesh should glory 
in his presence." 

In accordance with this arrangement, our 
ladies set off in a waggon for Mr. Fryer's 
house, under charge of our host's daughter, 
on the evening after our arrival at Oliphant 
River ; and in twenty-four hours, the waggon 
returned loaded with provisions, luxuries and 
medicines. Mr. Fryer also sent four sheep 
on the same day. and gave his shepherd 
orders to supply us with as many as we 
wanted ; and yet these things were but a 
tithe of the kindness which we received at 
the hands of this good Samaritan. 

We were at this time also under great obli- 
gations to Mr. Francis J. Troutar, who had 
come down the river at this time, along - with 



84 THE RESCUE. 

his mother-in-law and a few servants, to fish. 
The good old lady took our three children to 
her hut, supplied them with frocks and under 
clothing, and treated them with the solicitude 
and kindness of a mother, so as to merit our 
warmest gratitude. 

In the course of a few days, the effects of 
our long fasting and exposure and fatigues 
began to appear, and to make shocking havoc 
on the persons of our people, in loathsome 
bloaches on the face, and excessive swelling 
of the arms and legs. The steward was par- 
ticularly in a pitiable condition with his face, 
and one of the cabin passengers was confined 
to his couch. One of his legs burst, and his 
hand was obliged to be laid open by a deep 
incision of a razor, so that I was afraid at 
one time, that he would not rally. In the 
course, however, of four or five days, through 
the unremitting nursing of the Dutchman's 
family, and by the kind providence of God, 
we all began to amend. Our recovery soon 
revealed itself in an incessant craving for 
food ; for some days it was almost impossible 



THE RESCUE. 85 

to satisfy our intense appetite, and we were 
in danger of creating a famine in the Dutch- 
man's settlement, as a sheep was killed every 
day for our use, and we consumed great 
quantities of wheat, which we prepared for 
boiling by pounding it in a mortar, and some- 
times made into bread after grinding it in a 
hand-mill. 

On the 13th January I received a letter 
from Mr. Rennyfield, civil commissioner, Clan 
William, to meet him at Mr. Fryer's on the 
following day, in company with Mr. Troutar. 
We accordingly set off next morning, at five 
o'clock, and as I was but an indifferent horse- 
man, I was greatly exhausted by the ride. 
The country in this quarter is chiefly sandy, 
and blows with the wind like dust, but it is 
thickly studded with sundry kinds of shrubs 
and bushes, which are valuable for the feed- 
ing of cattle and sheep. On reaching my 
destination, I was most hospitably received 
by Mr. Fryer, and his lady, and was happy to 
find my lady passengers in good health and 
spirits. The civil commissioner made full 
8 



86 THE RESCUE. 

arrangements with me for our journey to 
Cape Town. I received a letter to produce 
to each field cornet on the route, containing 
instructions to provide us with w r aggons, and 
to supply us with every necessary on the 
road. Mr. Troutar, who was the field cornet 
of the district, was to provide the waggons 
and to be our conductor through the first 
stage ; and our departure was arranged for 
the 19th of January, by which time it was 
hoped that our invalids would be so far reco- 
vered as to bear the journey. 

On the day appointed we prepared for our 
departure amidst much bustle and confusion. 
The yoking of fourteen or sixteen oxen in a 
waggon is like getting an East India trader 
under weigh, and the chattering of the Hot- 
tentots in the excitement of the occasion was 
quite amusing. The scene of separation with 
our dear friends and deliverers was exqui- 
sitely affecting. The kind Dutchman's fa- 
mily were weeping aloud ; Mr. Troutar's 
mother-in-law clung to our little orphan fa- 
mily, and refused to part with them : even 



THE RESCUE. 87 

the Hottentots could not refrain their tears. 
I confess that I never felt myself so unman- 
ned in my life, and it was only after an hour 
had been wasted in ineffectual efforts to say 
farewell, that by a desperate resolution we 
at last tore ourselves away. They followed 
us for a short distance, and then stood, and 
waved their hands as long as we could see 
them. Thus we parted from kind strangers, 
who had entwined themselves around our 
hearts in fondest endearments ; and while 
memory holds her seat in our bosoms, I trust 
that we shall never cease to pray for richest 
blessings on the heads of our benevolent 
friends of the Oliphant River. 

We reached Mr. Fryer's at Donkin's Bay 
about midnight, where our party was rejoined 
by the ladies, and we remained in the enjoy- 
ment of this excellent family's hospitality 
until the next afternoon. Another painful 
scene of leave-taking had here to be repeated, 
and it was with difficulty that our ladies could 
command themselves in parting, from one 
who had proved so lavish in his generosity 



OO THE RESCUE. 

to all of us in our distress. " May the Lord 
reward him," and u think upon him for good," 
according to all the kindness that he showed 
unto us. 

It would be tedious to enter into minute 
details of our land journey to the Cape. It 
presented all the usual adventures of that 
tedious mode of travel ; — sometimes plough- 
ing sandy deserts deep to the axles, — and 
occasionally land-locked by an interminable 
maze of tangled brushwood. Frequently we 
lost our path in the darkness, the over-laboured 
brutes were many times at a stand-still from 
exhaustion, and scarcity of water ; and once 
or twice, we had nearly suffered a second 
shipwreck in the desert, to the great alarm 
of the ladies, and not without the hazard of 
broken bones. 

Mr. Troutar accompanied us with his wag- 
gons and cattle, through several dreary stages, 
until we reached Mr. Vanzells' farm. This 
gentleman was uncle to our worthy conduc- 
tor; and also a field cornet. Here we obtained 
fresh cattle, and started under a new convoy. 



THE RESCUE. 89 

It was with extreme regret that we parted 
from Mr. Troutar, whose kind and gentle- 
manly deportment had endeared him to ns 
all. I was also compelled to leave Mr. Harris 
our cabin passenger here, under charge of 
our surgeon, as he was so ill as to be unable 
to proceed ; Mr. Yanzells promising to for- 
ward both gentlemen to Cape Town on 
horseback, so soon as Mr. Harris was able to 
bear the journey. After travelling by uneasy 
stages for several days, we crossed the Peak 
Berg range of mountains, the Boers through- 
out treating us with unvarying kindness, and 
we furnishing much amusement to the inqui- 
sitive and simple people, by the strangeness 
of our dress, and speech, and psalmody. 

At length on the 28th January at midnight, 
we entered Cape Town, fatigued with our 
iourneyings in the wilderness, and happy in 
being able once more to mingle in the society 
of our countrymen. The luxury of a good 
bed, which for the first time 1 had here en- 
ioyed, since leaving the ship, could not induce 
me to sleep. The whole scene of dangers 






90 THE RESCUE 

and deliverances, through which the Lord 
had led us, here rose vividly before my view, 
and I could not refrain from giving fervent 
thanks to Him, "who had not dealt with us 
after our sins, nor rewarded us according to 
our iniquities." He had indeed "chastened 
us sore, but he had not given us over to 
death ;" and we could adopt the language of 
the Psalmist, "Thou, who hast showed us 
great and sore troubles, shalt quicken us 
again, and bring us again from the depths of 
the earth." " So will we sing praises unto 
thy name for ever." 

Immediately after breakfast, on the morn- 
ing of the 29th January, I waited on Colonel 
Bell, at that time Deputy-Governor of the 
Cape, and represented to him the miserable 
condition in which my crew and passengers 
were. He immediately sent for one of his 
officers to accompany me to our lodgings, and 
to make arrangements for the payment of 
our board. Being in miserable plight for 
want of clothing, I was at this time greatly 
indebted to Captain Christie of London, who 



THE RESCUE. 91 

presented me with an excellent suit of his 
own. I had the pleasure, also, of meeting 
an excellent friend in Dr. Brown (belong- 
ing originally to my native town of Peter- 
head), who took me to his own house, and 
entertained me most hospitably during my 
stay at the Cape. Meanwhile, the merchants 
and gentlemen of the place opened a public 
subscription on our behalf, which was hand- 
somely headed by Colonel Bell, and soon 
amounted to the sum of £120. By this 
money, a sum equal to a month's wages, was 
distributed in clothing to each of the crew, 
and the passengers received a similar supply, 
in equitable proportions, — the three children 
being fully furnished with all necessaries for 
the continuance of their voyage, and the 
ladies being supplied with clothing and a 
little money. I also received £10 of this 
money, along with a letter of commendation, 
and I am thus minute in detailing the bene- 
volence of the people of Cape Colony, as it is 
deserving, alike of personal gratitude and 
public praise. 



92 THE RESCUE. 

Every effort was now made to forward the 
p issengers to their destinations, and to dis- 
pose of the crew by drafting them into diffe- 
rent ships. After a little exertion, this was 
happily accomplished on behalf of all, with 
the exception of two steerage passengers, 
who preferred to accept of situations in the 
colony. So soon as I had thus discharged 
my obligations to the people under my care, 
I began to think how to dispose of myself. 
After various friendly offers of employment, 
none of which exactly suited me, I finally 
accepted of a passage home in a London 
schooner belonging to Mr. Fletcher, and 
bound to Bristol. My kind friends in Cape 
Town affectionately accompanied me to the 
ship, and, after taking grateful leave of them, 
our vessel set sail for England, and in due 
season, "by the good hand of my God upon 
me," I returned in peace to the bosom of my 
wife and family. 

Thus terminated a voyage replete with 
judgment and mercies. In the review of its* 
"affliction and miserv — the wormwood and 



THE RESCUE. 93 

the gall — my soul hath them still in remem- 
brance, and is humbled within me.'' And 
" may my right hand forget its cunning, and 
my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth," 
if I forget that "God who answered us in 
the day of our distress, and was with us in 
the way in which we went." I trust also 
that the same spirit and resolution may abide 
upon all the survivors of that disastrous voy- 
age which appeared in the day of our cala- 
mity. Even the most indifferent in religious 
things there owned that it was " a good 
thing to call upon God," and poured out a 
prayer when his chastening hand was upon 
them." May it never be said of any of us 
that " we flattered him with our mouth, and 
lied unto him with our tongues," or that " we 
forgat God and remembered not his wonders." 
The solemn professions which we then made 
are still before his throne, and He will never 
forget, however we may, the extraordinary 
obligations under which we lie, to dedicate 
our spared lives to His service. O that we 
may every day perform the vows which " our 



94 THE RESCUE. 

lipsuttered — our moutihs spake when trouble 
was upon us ;" and that our future lives may 
realize the holy resolution of the man of 
God : " Thou hast delivered my soul from 
death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from 
falling ; therefore I will walk before the Lord 
in the land of the living." 

And surely this simple tribute to Divine 
goodness carries with it a solemn message to 
every reader's heart. How impressively does 
it declare uncertainty of life, even in moments 
of greatest seeming security. It was when 
least expecting it, that the foregoing calami- 
ties came. And who can tell how soon God 
may disturb our dreams of security, by the 
summons to the judgment seat ? " We 
stand in jeopardy every hour." In a world 
so full of sorrow and evil, we are daily expos- 
ed to the visitation of death. And does it 
not become us, in such circumstances, " to be 
always ready — to have our loins girt, and our 
lamps burning, and be like men that wait for 
the coming of the Lord V O that we were 
wise — that we understood this, that we would 



THE RESCUE. 95 

consider our latter end." Sailors, above most 
men, ought especially to cultivate this spirit 
of habitual preparedness. Their calling pre- 
eminently exposes them to peril, and they are 
found " in deaths oft." The breeze that fills 
their sails, and wafts them to their destina- 
tion, may swell into tempest, and become 
" the breath of the blast of Jehovah's nos- 
trils " for their destruction. The ocean that, 
spreads around them a peaceful pathway to 
distant lands, may heave into huge and 
hoary billows, that yawn only to engulf them 
in its horrid grave. The very shore that 
greets them with gladness after long absence, 
may be changed into a scene of fatal ship- 
wreck, and death find them at the very door 
of supposed deliverance. Who does not feel 
as he treads the deck of his gallant vessel, 
that death is lurking near him in every ele- 
ment that lies over, and around, and under- 
neath his feet ; and that God is proclaiming, 
at every moment, in all the voice of nature, 
"As the Lord liveth, and as thy soul liveth, 
there is but a step between thee and death? 



96 THE RESCUE. 

And can we be safe, in such circumstances, 
to live in un preparedness for that which may 
meet us the next moment, and must meet us 
ere long ? Or ought we to feel satisfied, in 
any circumstances, if we be living in a state 
of enmity with God ? What can the sinner 
do, and whither shall he flee, when judg- 
ments overtake him 1 He cannot look up to 
a neglected and angry God ; he dare not 
look down upon an undone eternity ; nothing 
remains for him but " a fearful looking for of 
judgment and of fiery indignation to destroy 
him as an adversary." Why, oh why, should 
we live in such a state of defenceless danger 
— exposed at every accident to the destroying 
vengeance of heaven 1 Is not a divine Sa- 
viour now offering us not only his protection, 
but also his propitiation? The merit of his 
sacrifice is able to screen all who confide in 
it, not only from temporal danger, but also 
from eternal destruction. Let us seek our 
present safety, in acceptance with God, 
through the blood of Immanuel ; and we 
shall find our security from all future evils in 



THE RESCUE. 97 

the covert of his covenant. Then, " though 
we walk in the midst of trouble his right 
hand will save us," and we shall face every 
danger with a fearless confidence, while we 
can exclaim — " The Lord of Hosts is on our 
side, the God of Jacob is our refuge." For 
Immanuel shall be "an hiding-place from 
the wind, and a covert from the tempest, as 
rivers of waters in a dry place, and as the 
shadow of a great rock in a weary land." 

If any truth be confirmed by the foregoing 
narrative, it is the truth of God's word, that 
" the Lord is good — a stronghold in the day 
of trouble, and he knoweth them that trust 
in him." The " profiting" of prayer in such 
a case must " be apparent to all." It was the 
smallest part of its advantages that it preserv- 
ed order, and prevented excess, — that it filled 
the fainting hearts of the crew and passen- 
gers with courage, and renewed their strength 
when they were sinking fast into despair. 
It did more ; their eyes turned heavenward 
in their helplessness, and they found a power 
superior to their own, interpose for their deli- 
9 



98 THE RESCUE. 

verance. These poor men cried, and the 
Lord heard them, and delivered them out of 
all their distresses." If any reader should 
doubt the truth of this conclusion, or deny it, 
let him go and " prove God," by the same 
means ; let him " in everything by prayer 
and supplication make known his request to 
God ;" and if his prayer be sincere the gra- 
cious answer will be certain ; his own expe- 
rience will but accord with the infallible tes- 
timony of all ages. " Ye shall seek me and 
find me, when ye shall search for me with all 
your heart." "For this shall every 

ONE THAT IS GODLY PRAY UNTO THEE IN 
A TIME WHEN THOU MAYEST BE FOUND J 
SURELY IN THE FLOODS OF GREAT WA- 
TERS THEY SHALL NOT COME NIGH UNTO 



